


of monsters and men

by saintsavage



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Betrayal, But if you blink you miss it, Dark Eggsy, Dark Harry, Drug Use, M/M, Mild Gore, Possessive Harry, Self Love only Hate?, Smut Cop Out, They're both a mess, Violence, a Hot Mess, it's there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 04:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8313976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintsavage/pseuds/saintsavage
Summary: After Kentucky Eggsy slowly got more and more violent, to the point where he left Kingsman to work as a mercenary. He couldn't handle a world without Harry Hart. The problem is that Harry Hart was very much alive, staying away because he was afraid of his own darkness.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly there was a playlist about Dark Harry/Eggsy and this happened. I'm not even sorry. Fair warning, I probably switch tenses a lot. It's not intentional it just... happens? I also don't know how often this will be updated considering how many in progress stories I have but I've had 6 chapters of this story written for 6 months so I figured it was time to post them.

Eggsy spends a week stalking Not Harry before he's convinced that it is, in fact, Harry. His Harry. Fucking alive. He hadn't been sure, thought the drugs were finally tearing his memories apart. But it wasn't a lie, a trick of the mind... Harry Hart was currently drinking tea in a shitty little cafe in West Berlin. And he was doing it while wearing a bespoke suit. A Kingsman suit.  
  
Those bastards had lied to him. Merlin had lied. Fuck, maybe _Roxy_ had lied.  
  
As one week melts in to two he gets closer, does his research and prepares like the professional he was. Because fuck them, fuck Kingsman and fuck Harry fucking Hart.  
  
It was almost a joke how easy it was to access the secure files, to read up on his former mentor's life since he survived Kentucky. Even cracked the code on the design plans for the cybernetic eye Merlin had designed for the man. For kicks he looks up his old file and is surprised to find that he's been written off as a junkie, a monster, the proverbial bump in the night. _And you don't know the half of it, mate._  
  
Harry had written about him too, before he'd left Kingsman, observations about his missions, critiques on his methods. Little notes practically scribbled in the margins, and it was blunt: sloppy, takes too many unnecessary risks, unacceptable loss of civilians. Violent. Easily provoked. Conduct unbecoming. All damning shit coming from a gentleman.  
  
At about this time Eggsy started getting a little angry, taking it a lot more personally than he should have. It was just a job. Blow the fucker away, get his payout, continue on. But suddenly he didn't want to watch Harry's head explode (he remembers the colors from V-Day, brilliant purples and violent reds) because then Harry won't get to _see_ him. Won't get to watch as his pet project tears him to fucking bits. Eggsy wouldn't want to deprive the man, after all. It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of him.  
  
So he waits, watches as he's baited ( _Ain't fucking stupid, an open window? Really Harry?_ ) and finally when Harry walks down what has to be the hundredth back alley Eggsy thinks, well, fuck it, alley it is, and strolls out like it's no big deal. Like it doesn't mean anything.  
  
The drugs help.  
  
He strikes first, fast and hard. Brutal in his efficiency. He's done his homework, has seen Harry in action enough to know the man fights like he's the Fred Astaire of brawling; he wants to destroy that crushing grace. Break it down.  
  
But this Harry does not move like it is effortless.  
  
This Harry moves like he's lethal and primed to kill. Simpler. More elegant, somehow. "A hitman, Eggsy?" They're circling, watching eachother move. Weighing, measuring. Eggsy strikes, Harry counters. Jab, kick, feint. Eggsy is all strength, raw power. He doesn't waste his time - each blow is intended to hurt, to hammer Harry in to the filthy fucking ground.  
  
He shrugs, almost lazily. The rush of adrenaline pairs nicely with his high. It's a little like dancing after all. "I'm good at killing things." He sounds like nobody, accent rubbed away clean, and he can see Harry wince at that. It's subtle, but Eggsy is looking for it. He grins and pulls a knife because now, now it's almost fun. _Don't like what you see, bruv?_  
  
Harry watches the knife and Eggsy watches Harry, wondering just how good that mechanical eye of his is. It's why he pulled the knife, to test it out. See what Harry can really do. Another circle and they're both settling in now, prepared to be serious.  
  
"That isn't a skill a gentleman is proud of." Harry isn't biting, isn't falling for the taunt of the knife. Fine.  
  
They crash against eachother, a flash of fists and rage. Harry swings at Eggsy's side, gets two quick jabs to his ribs in before the knife slices through his chest, ruining the suit. Cutting through when it shouldn't have been able to. Eggsy sees that surprise again, spits out a stream of red and smiles with bloody teeth. _Shouldn't have underestimated me, Harry._ He's short of breath and probably has a broken rib but he can't even feel it. He's flying. Alive in this moment.  
  
"Good thing I ain't one." Eggsy is on the offensive now. He makes a few flashy swipes with the blade before suddenly slamming his other fist in to Harry's face: a direct hit with a satisfying crunch. "You're getting slow Harry."  
  
Eggsy is all loose limbs, climbing the brick wall, aiming to kick Harry right in the fucking skull, because he can't resist drawing it out a little; confident that he's going to kill Harry in this narrow, nameless alley... that Merlin is probably watching as he does it.  
  
That they are all going to see _exactly_ what kind of monster Eggsy Unwin was.  
  
Harry dodges, expecting the theatrics. Eggsy takes an elbow to his midsection and manages to avoid the sudden sweep of Harry's legs once he lands. The man himself still looks too composed. He's bleeding from what has to be a broken nose, from the nasty gash running diagonally from his left shoulder to his hip. His hair is mussed but other than that he isn't even breathing heavily. "You've gotten lazy." He sounds dismissive, the insult plain.  
  
But Eggsy is long past being hurt by the likes of Harry Hart.  
  
He pulls a gun, a neat little pistol that's almost invisible when tucked in to his hand. "Comes from not giving a shit." He pulls the trigger, not even aiming at this point because he's feeling the impossibility of it all. His world cracked and shattered when he watched someone shoot Harry down and now here he is, the man with the gun. He doesn't even realize he's laughing until he's on the ground, the gun kicked out of his hand at some point. Harry is angry now, nostrils flaring, shoulders tense.  
  
"Your father would have been ashamed of you." _Going for blood Harry? Gonna have to do better than that._ But that's a lie and he almost knows it. Eggsy tries to focus, briefly regrets shooting up earlier in the evening.  
  
He launches himself up off the ground, tackling Harry with the intention of hitting the man until his face is a red ruin. It's stopped being fun, this fight. Lethargy is already threatening to creep in, to coax him on the ground so he can ride out the feeling. He gets one heavy blow in before Harry shoves him off and scrambles away. There's no grace to him now.  
  
Eggsy's mouthing off before he thinks about it, still using a voice that isn't his. Sounding like a man Harry doesn't know at all. "Maybe. Wouldn't have been too happy with you either." And that's true, he thinks, because Lee would have been furious if he were alive. Would probably grab the pair of them up by the napes of their necks and shake 'em like kittens.  
  
The idea is amusing enough to have him laughing again even as they both are putting their all in to ending this.  
  
Eggsy manages to knock Harry back and it's like the other man is waiting to be knighted, kneeling on the ground, head lowered. A ridiculous pose to be in just now but for whatever reason Eggsy pauses because it's so absurd. He's half convinced he's on a bad trip and none of this is real because Harry shouldn't be still like that, submitting on the ground, not in this fight. Not when they're playing to win. "Taking a knee?"  
  
Eggsy doesn't count on what happens next. Harry shocking him with his ring, getting him on the ground, face down. He's got him's by the hair, pulling him back with Eggsy's own wicked little blade pressed to his adam's apple. "I should slit your throat, boy." His voice has gone all gravelly and dark, not bothering to hold back how furious he is.  
  
"Then do it, bruv." And there it is, that Eggsy voice. Like a ghost.  
  
He doesn't even move, has gone all but limp. He wants this and suddenly Harry seems to realize that this whole fight wasn't really about killing him, not entirely. Eggsy could have done that a week ago, nice, clean, and easy. This was about forcing Harry to finish him.  
  
Eggsy waits and Harry disappoints, shoving off of him in disgust. "I don't think I will. I happen to need a criminal at this juncture."  
  
He's starting to crash now, barely rolls over but doesn't bother getting up. Just lays there in the ground like he really doesn't care.  
  
He doesn't.  
  
"Ain't for hire." Back to the stranger's voice, finally sounding as strung out as he is. "Got a job anyway." A stray giggle escapes his mouth.  
  
"I'll pay you double." Harry is standing above him, staring down, cold and distant. If he's still angry he's not showing it. _Always gotta play it so cool, Harry._ But Eggsy considers, does some vague form of math in his head. Double pay means more drugs, means he can feed all of his demons for a lot longer.  
  
"Then fuck them. You've got yourself a killer." Harry squats down, studying him now as though Eggsy is some fucking puzzle that will make sense if you just get all the pieces in the right order.  
  
"What of your reputation?" His voice has gone soft and he's got the knife at Eggsy's jaw again, using it to turn his head.  
  
"I'm a gun, Harry. Blokes like me ain't loyal." Strange. Harry's looking at him now like he's hungry. Starving, even. It's a look from the past, like a window to a time when they weren't... this. But then he blinks and it's gone. Probably wasn't there at all. "Pay me and I shoot where you point."  
  
Harry drops the knife on his chest and then he's gone. Eggsy drags himself to the wall, leans back against the brick, and goes for the adderall stashed in his boot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy isn't the man he was. He's something darker, deadlier, and Harry wants nothing more than to taste that violence for himself.

"Merlin, I've contracted outside help in order to infiltrate Lincoln's club." Harry's pouring himself a shot, hands shaking from the adrenaline. He'd have avoided this call if he could, but the feed in his glasses was on during the fight. There was no way Merlin didn't know.  
  
Well, part of it. He couldn't know that Harry was drinking because if he didn't he'd go back to that alley and do what he'd wanted to with Eggsy beaten and bloody beneath him. Apparently time had not cured him of his lust. He could admit to himself that a vicious, drug-addled Eggsy was even more tempting than a shy-eyed boy blushing to his toes at the briefest bit of praise. He'd been so sweet then, so soft. It had taken all of his self-control not to sink his teeth in.  
  
But he's not sweet now.  
  
Harry knows he should be ashamed of himself for being glad that Eggsy was a wreck because it meant he could have him, because there was nothing left of him to destroy. _Surely he could have him now, without the guilt?_  
  
"...Harry, I don't think this is a good idea." Merlin has been ranting at him for a solid minute, but Harry isn't listening. He's trying to still his heart and to keep his hand off his cock long enough to have this conversation.  
  
"Why not? We can attest to the fact that he was well trained and there's no other way in." He can almost feel Merlin's glare. It was technically true, Clay Lincoln's establishments were proving to be difficult to infiltrate, but it wasn't the whole truth and both men knew it. Harry could get in without Eggsy.  
  
He didn't want to.  
  
"Why bloody not? Gee, I don't know. Maybe because he's an unpredictable, violent drug addict? Have you seen his file lately? He's not the same, Harry. Hell I'm surprised he even functions with all the shit pumping through his veins these days." Harry picks up his tablet, obliging Merlin by opening Eggsy's file. He already knows it isn't going to be something he wants to see sober.  
  
Either he'll fuck himself in the shower thinking about it or he'll hate himself for letting it happen. Or both. He's nothing if not efficient when it comes to his own self-loathing these days.  
  
"Someone hired him to kill me." He says it almost idly, hoping to derail Merlin before he starts really ranting. Merlin might have seen the fight but he hadn't heard it. It's a bone the Scot sinks his teeth in to with relish.  
  
"Who? How do you know? It could have been a coincidence. We knew he was in the area." Harry can hear Merlin furiously typing anyway.  
  
"I didn't ask." Harry swallows down the shot he's poured slowly, enjoying the way it burns. It's cheap swill, entirely too common for his tastes. It's something Eggsy would drink.  
  
"Harry." And there it is, that wariness he'd been expecting. The censure.  
  
Merlin isn't an idiot, after all.  
  
Harry sighs, an exaggerated sound. "Don't play nursemaid, Merlin. It isn't becoming."  
  
Neither of them seems to be willing to point at the elephant in the room. It's a dance they're been doing since the aftermath of V-Day. Since Kentucky.  
  
Predictably Merlin drops the subject. Mostly. "Fine. But please read his file... he's not the same. Even MI6 is wary of him and they don't tend to notice danger until it hits them in the face." MI6 isn't the only organization that has tagged Eggsy as a man to avoid. He was too highly skilled to hunt easily and for the most part his targets were people that needed killing - which made it more convenient to leave him be.  
  
Eggsy's file is a study in violence, most of it out of control. He tore a man's throat out (a rapist, that one) in Taiwan for spilling a drink on him. Killed a woman in Brazil (human trafficker) with over two hundred stab wounds to send a message to her drug lord brother. A CIA agent (and child molester they'd later learned) had tried to gun him down and Eggsy had beaten the man to death with a bottle.  
  
Hundreds of examples of casual destruction, all done without the slightest hesitation or question; though, a point in the boy's favor, he never went after anyone who wasn't asking for it. Harry almost couldn't even make it through one of the videos, watching with a sinking heart as Eggsy took out an entire Cuban drug compound - a one man wrecking crew. There was no flair, no grace. Just raw power. There'd been over a hundred men there.  
  
He hates himself for being rock hard at the end of it. Knows he should feel sick but all he can think is that Eggsy is dangerous now, at home on the streets, stoned out of his mind. He is pure violence made flesh. The sort of man who could switch from killing to fucking without batting an eyelash.  
  
It's an idea that has Harry pulling out his cock, stroking hard and fast, panting because he wants nothing more than to invite the monster he met in the alley home to play.


	3. Chapter 3

Eggsy's potential is not wasted, but he no longer shines. Harry can't help watching, wondering. Calculating. Three days later Eggsy finally approaches him, eyes bloodshot but it's clear he's coming down from whatever drugs he'd taken the night before. There are bruises on his cheek, one tucked under his eye. Remnants from their fight. There's also a necklace of purpled hickies around his neck. Harry's hand tightens on his cup of tea, a spurt of rage he can't help.  
  
Still, he isn't surprised that Eggsy has tracked him down, approached him like they were old friends. Maybe they were. "Still following me then?" Harry's voice is light, casual and uncaring. Careful. He doesn't let his gaze linger on Eggsy's neck, the marks there, even if he wants to. Wants to find whoever touched him and cut out their tongue for even daring- no. Calm. He needed to be calm.  
  
Eggsy seems amused, like he can see everything Harry is thinking. "A hunter knows where to find what he's looking for." And still, he doesn't sound like himself. Harry finds that irritating. Wants to snap at the boy, tell him to stop hiding behind that bland voice.  
  
"True, but you are no longer hunting me." Harry allows himself a brief glance, takes in the relaxed, almost lazy posture of the boy. As though he knows Harry isn't a threat to him or - more likely - doesn't give a damn if he's in danger or not.  
  
Broad shoulders shrug, a simple gesture that might mean anything. "Didn't say that." He has the audacity to grab Harry's cup, to drain it in one long swallow that makes Harry's mouth go dry with want. But he doesn't give that away, clamps it down because he knows that Eggsy is here for a reason and it might be one Harry doesn't like. He decides to show one of his cards.  
  
"Merlin thinks you're too dangerous to trust."  
  
Eggsy raises one eyebrow almost mockingly. "He'd be right." He's almost smiling now. Feral and wild and so very lovely in the afternoon light.  
  
"Oh?" Harry's trying very hard not to think about what it would be like to grab the front of Eggsy's shirt and pull him in close for a bruising kiss. To see how many scars he had now, to peel away all the layers surrounding Eggsy until he could see the bones of him.  
  
"So what's the job? If you're hiring me it must be pretty nasty. Afraid to get your hands dirty?" They both know Eggsy was prodding at him, trying to goad a reaction out of the man who once held his loyalty so tightly that he'd killed hundreds in his name. Thousands.  
  
Harry ignores him, changes the subject again. "You shouldn't slouch, it's terrible for your posture." Naturally Eggsy slouched down even more, something Harry hadn't thought possible. _Stubborn boy._  
  
"You have ten minutes before I get bored." There's an edge to his tone, one that makes Harry's blood want to fucking sing. But they're playing a game now and Harry is curious where it'll lead them. He decides to play along, crossing his legs and focusing completely on the languid, somewhat haggard killer sitting next to him.  
  
"I need to get in to a club. A very specific club."  
  
"You're going after Clay Lincoln, ain't ya?" The stoic, cruel parody of his Eggsy melts away in favor of a cheshire grin and that stupid accent that Harry missed too much.  
  
"Eggsy-" He starts to scold, to cover up anything he might have revealed in the wake of hearing that much beloved voice, but Eggsy stops him.  
  
"Unwin." He's still smiling but it's not real. "Like to keep it professional."  
  
With the ball back in his court Harry merely smiles - it's one of his special smiles, reserved for when he's dealing with someone who is behaving like a child. It's a look Eggsy knows well and dislikes on principle. The boy isn't smiling now, false or otherwise. "It could be argued that, as I am paying you, I can call you whatever I like."  
  
"Still bored, Harry." Harry expected Eggsy to drop the accent, to fall back to the persona he'd adopted, but he doesn't. Instead he shifts, puts his feet up on the empty chair across from him. "The hit on you has gone up ten thousand."  
  
"That's loose change." Harry continues to watch him.  
  
"Maybe. Curious what the full number is?" Another glimpse of who he'd been before, all teasing and mischief. But now he's making light of a contract on Harry's life and his callousness is painfully attractive.  
  
"Not really." He isn't. Whatever the number it is, it doesn't matter. Harry knows the only one with a chance of taking him out is Eggsy and for now he's bought him; not for the first time he is glad the boy is an addict now. Otherwise his propensity towards loyalty might have forced Harry's hand.  
  
"Well if you aren't going to tell me about this job I might as well fuck off until you're ready." Eggsy sits up, leaning forward on the table. He seems to take particular delight in saying fuck off to Harry. _Time to put him off balance, he's far too confident._  
  
"I prefer not to discuss business with someone who is coming down off of a high." The old Eggsy would have lowered his gorgeous head, shamed to his core. He might have glanced up from underneath the fringe of his lashes, a wordless plea. This Eggsy only smiles cheekily and leans in closer, his knee brushing against Harry's.  
  
"Too bad." And then he laughs when Harry swallows heavily, the bastard. " 'sides if you want in to one of Clay's clubs without a fuss you need me so I can be as fucked up as I want."  
  
Ah yes, _Clay_. Harry doesn't like how easily Eggsy says the name, how it rolls off his tongue with practiced ease. It makes it too easy to imagine Eggsy saying that name in other situations. Whimpering it. Screaming it. The idea makes Harry feel slightly murderous. "Very well, if you wish to discuss details we'll do so in a safer location than this. You have my address?" Harry hasn't failed to notice the growing pile of cigarette butts underneath a broken streetlight half a block away from his flat.  
  
He doesn't expect Eggsy to pull away from him, back to grinning like he's thinking of a clever trick he's pulled that Harry hasn't caught on to yet. "Yes, Harry."  
  
Whatever it was, Harry had a feeling he was going to be unamused. His tone is decidedly frosty as he stands. "I will meet you there at 7pm. Try not to be seen."  
  
Harry returns to his rented flat and realizes Eggsy has already been there. Has practically set up shop complete with a variety of drug paraphernalia and what he can only assume is a well-fucked hooker in his bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Sometime before midnight Eggsy is clumsily climbing through the window smelling like vodka and cheap cologne. If he was expecting a reaction when he stumbled over to the couch and plopped down without further ceremony he was disappointed by Harry's calm indifference. "I had to send your friend home." _And I may have threatened her life if she ever touches you again._  
  
Eggsy leans back, running his hands down both of his thighs, smiling and pleased with his antics, clearly. His eyes land on the drugs now neatly arranged on the table, get caught there as Harry expected they might be. He has a hard time looking away, finally meeting Harry's eyes and pretending like he hadn't lapsed at all.  
  
"Didn't want to have a go? She was right fit. Got all her teeth and everythin'." He sounds like himself, like Eggsy, apparently deciding there was no reason to pretend.  
  
Another furtive glance to the table, focusing on the morphine.  
  
"Not my type." Harry watches as Eggsy bites down on his plush lower lip and valiantly resists the urge to maul him.  
  
"Fair enough." The words are too casual, overdone. Eggsy tries to recover and firmly focuses his attention on Harry. "You ain't trying to get in to one of Clay's clubs like that are you? No wonder they thumbed ya." Harry is in one of his more informal Kingsman-issued suits, dark charcoal grey with faint pinstripes. Underneath is a light grey button up and understated maroon and navy striped tie. It's elegant but too polished.  
  
"That would depend on which club."  
  
"Which one? And what exactly you hirin' me for, anyway?" For needing a fix Eggsy is doing a remarkable job of keeping his attention solely on Harry.  
  
"You are my ticket in, dear boy." Harry smiles. If some of what he's thinking leaks in to that smile, well, he'd never claimed to be perfect. "They know you there so there won't be any questions if you bring me along with you."  
  
"Oh, _that_ club." The emphasis he puts on the words make it clear he already knew the answer. "Sure you can handle it? They're a suspicious set." There's that nasty smile again. If it wasn't for the mission Harry would give in to the temptation to tie the dangerous, darling man to his bed until Eggsy was screaming apologizes and promising to be a good boy.  
  
"I'm referring to the underground fighting ring." _And you're lucky it is important because I very much want to punish you for the hickies on your neck and the whore you fucked in my bed._  
  
"You know what the front for that is?" Eggsy's eyes seem to answer all that goes unspoken. Almost daring Harry to give in to the temptation.  
  
"A gay sex club, yes, I am aware." _You don't know what I am capable of, boy._  
  
"Oh Harry, you haven't foggiest." _Try me._  
  
Harry isn't so sure he wants to hear whatever has Eggsy smirking but he knows if he doesn't ask he won't know, ever, and that's infinitely worse. "Explain."  
  
Without hesitation Eggsy informs him. "Men like you go there to fuck boys raw and beat the shit out of them later. Or watch it happen. They also bring boys from their personal stables to the fights. Winner keeps the loser." Strange how the echo of the boy he'd found leak out, telling Harry about something that is abhorrent in such a jaded, matter-of-fact way. Like that was just the way life was.  
  
For a time, Eggsy had believed otherwise. Until Kentucky.  
  
"I am aware that human trafficking-" Harry doesn't like the reminder that he's to blame for the situation they're in now. For the gorgeous, broken man on the couch. He's torn between wanting to fuck him until he screams or to be punished for his many, many sins. He has a feeling Eggsy has become quite adapt at vigilante justice even within the bedroom, but the boy doesn't give him a chance to say more. Rudely cuts him off so there is no mistaking the activities Clay Lincoln is involved in.  
  
"Nah, it's not like that. They sign up for the drugs, mostly, but all of them are willing." For a moment his eyes seem to glaze over but he hasn't once looked at the numerous paraphernalia on the table since he started to explain. Harry wonders what those hooded eyes are imagining. "Have you actually seen it for yourself?"  
  
"Merlin wasn't able to hack in to their database without them noticing."  
  
"I bet he's all riled up 'bout that." Chuckling, Eggsy slid down the couch a bit, studying Harry as he did. "You ain't asking why I go there."  
  
The answer to that question seemed obvious and Harry wasn't keen to indulge him. "I assume you go to, and I quote 'fuck boys raw' or perhaps for the violence alone."  
  
But Eggsy shook his head, tutting as he did, like Harry had disappointed him. "Wrong. Try again."  
  
He didn't like this conversation. Partly because it made him hatter mad. Partly because it was making him hard. "You're implying you go there..." Harry let his voice trail off, not quite up to saying it so crudely. He can feel his heart stuttering in his chest, shocked and pleased and so fucking starved for the man in front of him that it's almost unbearable.  
  
"Boys like me go there to get fucked by men like you. To get used and to half kill eachother to earn it." _Oh god._ Harry's cock grows uncomfortably tight in his trousers at the very fucking thought. He knows he's been too quiet when Eggsy leans forward, ever-grinning. "The great Harry Hart, speechless. That's adorable."  
  
"I'm thinking." And he was, the things he was thinking... "We'll have to go in as a couple then." He sounds sure of himself, decisive. Not at all like his heart is screaming with sheer, unadulterated joy at the idea. No, better to keep that part of him quiet, sated with violence. For now. "Unless you already have someone who might disagree with that arrangement?" _In which case I may need to tear their throat open, to fuck you over their twitching body as it bleeds out, claiming you in the most animalistic, base way that I can. To show you that you are mine. You always have been mine. There is no life in which you are not._  
  
"We go in like that they'll expect a show to prove you ain't a snitch." It's a challenge, a flat-out dare. "They film everything too, just in case." As though it mattered.  
  
"Very well."  
  
"Guess you got a rent boy then." Suddenly they are having a different conversation, one composed entirely of knowing looks. Harry wants to feel chagrined, annoyed that Eggsy has read him so well, but it was hard to feel anything but hunger with the boy looking at him like that.  
  
It was always going to end up this way. Every version of themselves would come to this moment. It was fate.  
  
Eggsy stands, yanking off his ratty t-shirt before walking over to Harry's chair. He's still beautiful, lovely in the low light as only he can be, though now he's covered in scars. Blanketed in them.  
  
He climbs in Harry's lap before yanking the other man's head back, violently. Bites down on his exposed neck, hard and hurting and oh god. Harry pulls Eggsy closer by the hips, grinding against him. Hissing at the pain and the pleasure of it.  
  
Eggsy demolishes Harry's shirt, ripping it open, buttons scattered everywhere. Exposing the neatly stitched line on his chest. Fingers brush it softly before their mouths meet in a rush of teeth and tongues. Harry is whining in to that lush mouth, helpless to stop it. At any moment this could turn from sex to death and riding that line is fucking everything, all he ever could have wanted: a lap full of dangerous, deadly Eggsy, more gorgeous than he had any right to be.  
  
A grunt is the only warning Harry gets before Eggsy pulls a knife from the small of his back and is cutting the rest of Harry's clothes off of him. Nicks him a few times in his haste. _Fuck, fuck._ Then he's slipping down to the ground, knife in hand, sinking Harry's cock in to his mouth. Harry pulls at Eggsy's hair with both hands, holding him there. Their eyes meet and then Eggsy begins to move.  
  
There is nothing soft about this, nothing gentle or sweet or good. And it's what they need. Soon Eggsy is dragging Harry to the floor on top of him, panting as Harry straddles him, bites his way down his chest, pulls his jeans off. And then he's talking and Eggsy seems to lose himself in the raspy sound of Harry telling him, in detail, how he's going to fuck him, just like he wants.  
  
"Once isn't going to be enough. I want you ruined. When we walk in to that fucking club they'll know I own you. You'll be red and purple and sore, every inch. I'm going to fuck you until you're begging me to keep you." He holds Eggsy down, opens him up with his fingers, strokes his own cock, watches as Eggsy - vicious, dangerous, gorgeous - falls to pieces around him.  
  
He waits until Eggsy's throat is hoarse from begging before sinking in to that delicious heat. And then he's slamming in to the boy, hard and rough, making him scream when Harry brushes again his prostate.  
  
When it's over they're a mess on the floor and there's blood everywhere from the stitches he's broken.  
  
"I'm supposed to kill you tomorrow." Eggsy might as well have been talking about the weather for all the concern he shows. Harry wonders if it's possible to get hard again so soon. _Probably not at my age._  
  
"Lincoln is the one who hired you initially, isn't he?" It's a question that doesn't need answering. _Yes, it makes sense. Lincoln knew I was plucking away at strands, trying to find a clean way to get at him. But he didn't know who or what I was, aside from a problem. He certainly didn't know about Kingsman, or Eggsy, or he'd never have sent him after me._  
  
Lazily Eggsy fished out a lighter and a battered pack of cigarettes from his discarded jeans, offering one to Harry before continuing. "A year ago, when I showed up on his radar, he paid me a lot of cash to tear a guy to pieces. With my teeth."  
  
For once he looks almost like a ghost of the boy he'd been, ducking Harry's gaze like he can't bear the idea of Harry being ashamed of him, even now. "Don't look at me like that, guy was a thief and a killer and everythin'."  
  
Given that Harry was imagining the spectacle of Eggsy, golden and bloody and glorious, tearing in to someone with his fucking teeth... it hurt how much he wanted to fuck him again. But it was clear that such thoughts should probably be kept private.  
  
For now.  
  
"You work for him often, then?" It's not a pleasant thought, the idea that someone else had taken Eggsy and sent him out to rain hell upon the world as they saw fit. That Lincoln had taken all that Eggsy had to offer, had tasted him, while Harry had lived in a shadow of self-denial. There was no way that this would end with Lincoln alive. Merlin would just have to forgive him after the fact.  
  
"Nah. But I know he's been watching me. Likes to. When I do jobs for other folks he always gets a copy of whatever video he can." Relief seeps in to his bones as Harry shifts, watching tendrils of smoke drift from the young man's mouth. Its bliss to watch him, to hear him again like he never thought he'd be able or allowed to, and Harry doesn't intend to waste a moment of it.  
  
Careful fingers trace scars, fallen everywhere that he can see, netting across Eggsy's skin like a macabre sort of lace. Beautiful still, he always was. Ganymede come to life, wicked and glittering. _Surely I can't be blamed for my fascination?_ His hands drift to Eggsy's neck, still so amazed that the boy is so pliant, tilting his head, exposing his throat. Giving everything of himself just as he'd always done - monster or not, the core of him seemed to be the same.  
  
It isn't enough. Harry wants everything, every last little scrap.  
  
Apparently Eggsy is in the mood to give it. "And then he fuck's me while he watches it."  
  
That... that sours Harry's mood, considerably. _Perhaps I don't want everything._ Still his exploring doesn't cease but for a fraction of a second, a single sliver he can't help, tensing because he's so very jealous of that truth. _Maybe he knows? Knows how much I want him?_ It's with decidedly shakier hands that Harry plucks the cigarette from that filthy mouth, takes a drag for himself. It doesn't calm the sudden spurt of envy he has for anyone that has ever touched his golden boy, but it helps.  
  
"Do you know what you're going to do?"  
  
"No." It's honest, in the way a punch to the jaw is. The sudden sharpness of a knife. Harry is rather enamored by it.  
  
"I am under orders not to kill him." Silence. "But I think I am going to."  
  
"He didn't make me this way." The words are so soft, hardly spoken at all. But Harry hears.  
  
Sighing Harry takes another drag and considers. To tell him the truth or not? "I know that, Eggsy." And finally, after years of letting them fester at the bottom of his soul, Harry caves and gives voice to his darkest thoughts. "I'm going to kill him because you're mine. You've always been mine."  
  
Harry can feel Eggsy shudder beside him but he doesn't temper how possessive he must sound. "I was afraid of it, before Kentucky. Afraid of what I might do."  
  
"Why were you afraid?" He says it like he doesn't already know. How could he not know, with Harry's covetous eyes upon him?  
  
"Because I am a jealous man." At least, he was now. He hadn't been before those hazel eyes had landed on him, wary of his intent; a lesser man would have suspected Eggsy of witchcraft, so wholly consumed as he was from that point on. "I thought I had no right."  
  
Eggsy turned to his side, head in hand, voice soft. "And now?" Harry watched him as he had always watched him: entranced by the play of light and shadow dappling across the planes of his supple skin.  
  
The silence stretches. Harry lifts his arm to Eggsy's face - cupping his cheek, fingers feathering across his jaw before pulling down his lower lip. When he speaks it is in his matter-of-fact way. "Now I have the only right." And doesn't that make Eggsy shudder. "You belong to me, Eggsy, and I'll probably kill anyone who touches you."  
  
"There goes my social life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write smut, but I tried?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin isn't happy.

When they're done Clay Lincoln is a mess of blood and bone smeared across the floor: a warning to anyone who would try and take Eggsy from him.

Later they touched down on English soil Harry leaves Eggsy curled up on his couch with enough drugs to last him a week or so (he'd had to ask about the amount and had failed to cover his shock by Eggsy's reply) before heading to HQ.

Predictably, Merlin was outraged. Harry didn't care.

"Harry have you lost your fucking mind?" There was a vein throbbing in Merlin's temple and his voice was sending everyone in the near vicinity skittering away in sheer terror.

With nonchalance Harry poured himself a glass of bourbon, not bothering to offer Merlin any because the man was particular about his spirits. Anything younger than 25 years was an abomination to the ridiculous Scot. "I will be responsible for him, Merlin, there's no need to worry." Harry wanted that to be the end of it, but how could it be?

"He's not a puppy, Harry!" Merlin had a white-knuckled grip on his tablet as he paced. If he held it any tighter the thing was going to snap clean in half but Harry felt it was wise not to mention that to his irate friend mid-rant. "What happens when he starts fucking killing people for sport?" Stomp, swivel. "What if he decides to turn on you?" Stomp, stomp. Merlin turned and actually pointed a finger at him, like he was twelve years old and in trouble with his mum. "You don't bring a killer home, Harry."

"My personal life is none of your concern." Taking a long swallow, enjoying the burn, Harry tried to imagine better things. Eggsy naked, tied to the bed and bleeding. Eggsy tearing apart some poor bastard with his bare hands. It was strangely calming - enough that he could turn to Merlin with a half smirk. "If Eggsy misbehaves, I'll punish him accordingly. Swat him on the nose with a newspaper, perhaps."

"Kinder to shoot him." Grumpily said, but on the edge of relenting. Harry could smell the blood in the water.

"That might be so, but I don't think he's mad, Merlin." His voice is soft, but firm. "He's just willing to admit what he is, something we like to deny at Kingsman."

Suddenly Merlin's eyes narrow, angry again. "We aren't killers-"

"Aren't we?" Harry's head tilts as though daring Merlin to deny the death toll they've racked up. He's already preparing a glass of his special whiskey - reserved for such occasions when he's defeated Merlin but doesn't want to man to be discouraged by it. Merlin was a similar bottle in his office.

"We do what has to be done." Merlin took the glass and downed it in one long swallow, unable to savor it when he's considering the ramifications of allowing Harry to keep a murderer in his life. "What about the drugs? The alcohol? You can't control him and you know it."

"I don't intend to control him."


	6. Chapter 6

Eggsy comes to Harry's bed, a monster boy with a dripping knife in hand. For a moment Harry wonders if he's miscalculated but no, he smells the blood. Can see it even, a lazy smear across the boy's cheek. On this night Eggsy isn't here to carve his heart out of his chest. Harry isn't sure if he's relieved or disappointed.  
  
"Where's your mother?" Harry gets out of bed, approaches cautiously. Eggsy's sweater and jeans are soaked; it hasn't rained in two days. Behind him Harry can see dark splotches on the hardwood, he'll have to clean it up later. For now: Eggsy. More importantly, who Eggsy has all over him. _Please don't be Michelle Unwin._  
  
"Estates. Wouldn't let me get her out." Harry hopes that means she's still there.  
  
"What about your sister?" _Surely it wouldn't be the girl._  
  
"Boarding school over in Switzerland." Harry leads Eggsy further in to the room, takes the knife away, setting it on the dresser. He notes how lethargic his lover is. Is he high? Or hurt? Or, quite possibly, both. Eggsy allows Harry to peel the sweater away, watches with disinterest as Harry hesitates before motioning Eggsy to follow him to the washroom. There's a nasty, ragged tear in Eggsy's side but it doesn't seem too deep.  
  
"I'll be right back, stay here pet." He makes a quick trip to the kitchen, grabbing a bin liner and making a note to start keeping them in their room. Eggsy is sitting on the edge of the tub prodding at the weeping wound on his side. It'll probably need stitches. Once Harry sews him back up he gets on his knees and licks the blood away. God help him.  
  
The next morning he finds out who his darling butchered: Eggsy's first kill after coming home is one Dean Baker and eleven of his associates. The scene is bloody and shockingly violent. Merlin tapes the article to Harry's office door.  
  
Later, with his head resting in Eggsy's lap, Harry can't help but ask: "Did you really need to remove his spine?"  
  
They're watching an old 007 movie but Eggsy doesn't even pause. "Didn't think he had one in the first place." Hazel eyes look down at Harry, strangely guilty. "Talked to mum, convinced her to go to rehab." It isn't the whole truth. Harry waits. "Told her whoever killed Dean was probably gonna come after her too and she needed to get out for a bit. Found her a place in America. She asked if she could see Daisy." Eggsy looks away now, running a rough hand through Harry's hair. "I threatened her."  
  
It's almost like he expects to be scolded for that, his voice gone soft. But Harry understands, presses a kiss to each of Eggsy's hands before turning back to the movie.


	7. Chapter 7

"Why the hell was he there?" Merlin is red-faced and screaming, as livid as Harry as ever seen the man. He's tempted to needle him but honestly he's just too tired to bother. It's all he can do to sit there with his eyes open after the shit storm he barely managed to get out of.  
  
Without Eggsy he wouldn't have gotten out at all. Trouble was, Eggsy most certainly _shouldn't_ have been there, nor should he have known about Harry's mission. When he last saw him his kept monster was injecting something in to his arm and watching some godawful reality trash on the telly.  
  
But then there was fire and Harry was trapped, and out came Eggsy like a risen demon.  
  
And now Merlin wanted answers from them both, answers Harry didn't actually have. He glanced down at his darling boy, nudging him to speak. "Spiked his tea with nanobots, followed him." Eggsy shrugged, still slumped in Harry's lap.  
  
They both were splattered with blood and injured but for the first time Merlin had ignored protocol - well, in Harry's case. Eggsy wasn't even supposed to be _there_ either. But how could he think about any of that? "Apparently he felt the need to violate my privacy." _He was protecting me._ The words are heady, golden and bright in the darkest parts of him.  
  
"Recognized the name, nasty bloke." And now he was in bite-sized pieces courtesy of the young, ravishing killer wrapped in Harry's arms. A vein throbbed in Merlin's temple. If he got any redder he'd explode, surely.  
  
His next words came out clipped and precise, the tone even fairly even despite his earlier ranting. "And how did you recognize the name?"  
  
"Worked for him once." Eggsy's words were, of course, muffled against Harry's shoulder. Whatever drugs he'd taken before had worn off long ago and he was crashing hard. It wouldn't be long until he was sleeping like the dead.  
  
"You know what I mean, Unwin." Merlin actually shook his tablet at the pair of them. It took ever single ounce of self control Harry had not to snicker.  
  
A heavy, annoyed sigh left the former trainee before he lifted his head again. "Hacked in to the feed." Merlin gestured for him to go on with a surprising amount of patience for a man who looked like his head was about to pop off. "And then the database. Speaking of, Merlin, ain't nice to suggest somebody Old Yeller me, mate."  
  
Merlin scoffed. "That's impossible. No one can hack in to-"  
  
"I did it before I even went all 'Jack the Ripper', back when Harry scurried off to Kentucky to get himself shot." That was... quite true. Harry's terminal hadn't been set up and waiting despite accusations of the contrary. He might have been a man in lust but he was always careful, above all else.  
  
"He does make a point." Harry ran his fingers through Eggsy's blood matted hair, coaxing him back against his shoulder, thinking it was over and they could head to medical and then home. But Merlin was nothing if not tenacious.  
  
"I want to know how you got in to my system."  
  
Eggsy snorted. "Don't think so, bruv."  
  
"Unwin." There it was again, that twitching vein. Surely that wasn't normal. Merlin ought to have it looked at. Maybe Harry could suggest it? Not right now, but maybe when Merlin was trying to needle him about his relationship with Eggsy.  
  
"You probably should tell him, he's supposed to watch his blood pressure."  
  
Of all things, that made Merlin snap. He stormed over and shook the tablet in Harry's face again. "I can't believe you aren't furious with him, Harry. You have to see that this is a problem."  
  
"Eggsy, dear, wait outside would you?" It took several minutes to maneuver a grumpy Eggsy up and outside where a nurse from medical wheeled him down the hall but when it was over Harry shut the door and straightened as much of his suit as he could. What was left of it, anyway. And then he turned to his best friend with the coldest look he had in his arsenal.  
  
"Unless someone with the sufficient amount of cash and drugs buys him, he won't do anything to jeopardize Kingsman."  
  
"Harry. You can't possibly trust him." Merlin deflated, clearly wanting to step in but not even sure how to fix this. "What you're doing... you need to let him go, for fuck's sake-"  
  
"I can trust him with Kingsman. I do trust him with Kingsman." And he did, god help him he did. Eggsy was not a good man, but Harry trusted him with his life, his everything. "For the sake of our friendship, don't ask me to give him up again, because I won't. He's _mine_."  
  
\----------  
  
Naturally, Roxy finds out. How could she not? Eggsy was her friend, probably her _best_ friend, and the second she heard he was back she came running... and was immediately taken aback by what she found. It colored their first encounter in to a blur of screaming and tears.  
  
He was just so gaunt, so pale and lost. What had happened to him after he'd left Kingsman? How had her kindhearted, gentle friend turned in to... _that_?  
  
She _may_ have suggested a rehabilitation clinic that she knew of. _Might_ have suggested too that he got away from Harry since the man seemed to be the root of everything that had gone wrong, and that's where things had turned south.  
  
Eggsy got in her face, cool and calm and as furious as she'd ever seen him. She remembered thinking this must be the face his targets see, the very last one. "I belong to Harry Rox, and that's exactly where I want to be. It's always been fucking him and I swear if you try to get in the way of that..."  
  
He didn't have to say it.  
  
Roxy swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. But Eggsy seemed to want an answer and she finally nodded her head once, watching as the tension drained from his body. "This really is what I want Rox. I hope... I hope we can still be friends." His voice is softer now and she throws herself in his arms, the first contact they've had in years.  
  
Later she refuses to speak to Harry, a frustration to Merlin but he manages to adjust accordingly. Thankfully the knights rarely work in tandem.  
  
As for her friendship with Eggsy it resumes where it had left off before Kentucky, as though they were still two cheeky twenty somethings ready to save the world - the difference being that half the time Eggsy was high off his ass. But they managed to make it work and Roxy was grateful to have her friend back, even if it was only parts of him.


	8. Chapter 8

The first time he overdoses Harry is in Brazil. Roxy is the one who finds him and (despite Merlin's extremely loud protests) drags him to the Kingsman medical ward. They manage to stabilize him but his heart stopped twice. Merlin expects Harry to be more upset or to fly off the handle so doesn't tell him until the mission is complete. When he finds out Harry is more resigned than anything.  
  
He sighs. "The damage?"  
  
"His brain is fine, by some sort of miracle or the devil's own luck. But it was a near thing." Merlin took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, more tired than he let on. He'd die before admitting that he kept the video feed of Eggsy's room open at the corner of one of his screens, watching over the boy like he always had. Watching Roxy too, crying at his bedside.  
  
After a moment he met Harry's eyes. "Lancelot's wrecked." Harry only nods, knowing his old friend had something more to say. "I expected you to be... angry."  
  
"We are not nice people, Merlin." Harry could only shrug, the truth uncomfortable but no less true. "This was bound to happen. He hasn't taken a job in weeks and doesn't handle boredom well." It was painful to acknowledge that, his deficiency in caring for Eggsy.  
  
Merlin's eyebrows raise, surprised that Harry is handling the situation so well. He thought there would be more remorse and self-recrimination. But this... "And you left anyway? Leaving him with enough drugs to kill an elephant?" There is no judgment in his tone, only shock.  
  
"I knew you'd notice if I brought him along." After the last time Merlin was more careful. He kept track of Eggsy himself to make sure he didn't stray too far from London. "And I believe the terms for keeping him involved me making sure he was pacified so yes, I left him the drugs because otherwise he'd have followed me and I couldn't exactly tie him to a chair."  
  
That has Merlin growling, angry at the implication. "You're saying this is my fault." But Harry merely raises his hands, making it clear that he'd meant nothing of the sort.  
  
"No, this is Eggsy's fault, I'm merely explaining my reasoning."  
  
\----------  
  
The second time Harry is in Berlin, trapped in a burning building. Eggsy calls him, laughing and sobbing at the same time, and Harry finds himself talking Eggsy down from a ledge (a literal one, as it turns out, though at the time he thought Eggsy was safely at home and hallucinating) as he escapes and the warehouse collapses. Merlin can't help overhearing and sends a unit to find Eggsy. He's in a coma for two weeks.  
  
Merlin and Harry finally talk about it, _really_ talk about it. They're both shitfaced.  
  
"Lancelot blames me." He takes a long swig of whatever godawful swill Harry has just handed him. It tastes like cheap vodka; given Eggsy's taste it probably is.  
  
It's obvious that Harry wants to deny that, but how can he? Lancelot does blame Merlin. She knows the decision had been made for Harry's survival to be kept a secret (even from her) but finds that it was an inexcusable choice when Eggsy suffered so badly. "She blames us both, Merlin." A hard truth, that.  
  
"Thinks if we had told Eggsy that you'd survived Kentucky we wouldn't have lost him." Merlin's glass sloshes over, his drunk self gesticulating more wildly than he ever would sober. He's vaguely surprised his Scottish burr isn't out in full swing. Maybe it's the distasteful topic.  
  
Harry winces, pours himself another drink. _It is vodka, huh. I never thought I'd see the day when Harry Hart drank cheap vodka._ "She's not wrong." No, she's not. "But then again, was he ours to lose?"  
  
That has Merlin groaning. "I hate when you get all philosophical when you're drunk."  
  
"Then you shouldn't have dared me to finish the bottle." Harry primly twists the cap back on as though he isn't ten sheets to the wind.  
  
Snorting, Merlin kicked at Harry's leg. They were both sprawled out on Harry's ornately carved but shockingly comfortable couch. Eggsy was still in the Kingsman hospital. "We both needed to be good and drunk to talk about this and you know it, Harry."  
  
Harry's head dropped back against the couch and he swallowed heavily. "Fine. Then let's talk about it."  
  
"The next time he overdoses, he's probably done. Are you willing to let that happen just so you can keep him?" Best to spit it out quickly, like a bandage. But there's more to say, more than the bad. "You know, before Kentucky, I always thought he'd end up climbing in to your bed. Thought I'd have to deal with the fallout of you turning him down because you're a bloody idiot." Merlin found himself chuckling at the idea before his smile died. "But then Kentucky happened."  
  
"Then Kentucky happened."  
  
Merlin sat up carefully. "He needs help, Harry. He's all but screaming for it."  
  
"He won't go to rehab and if I try and force him by withdrawing my... support he'll become a danger to everyone." Harry sighs, running a distracted hand through his hair. "The only reason he even remotely behaves now is because I provide him with the drugs-"  
  
"Bullshit Harry. You keep telling yourself that as a way to absolve yourself but it's bullshit and you fucking know it." Harry's eyes went wide though Merlin didn't know why. He'd always been blunt - maybe not when it came to Eggsy but bluntness was certainly called for. "You're so terrified that he'd quit for you, that he saved the fucking _world_ for you, that you'd rather see him eaten alive by guilt and shame then help him."  
  
Harry looked away, staring at his hands. They both knew it was true. When Harry found out what Eggsy had done... that's when he has decided he wanted to become a ghost. Merlin had pitched a fit but in the end had agreed if only because he knew Harry would run off and leave Kingsman if he didn't get his way. When he speaks his voice is soft, laced with uncertainty. "So what if I am?"  
  
"You deserve to be loved." Harry scoffed, looking at Merlin like he was being ridiculous.  
  
"You're one to talk. How long has it been since you broke it off with Miss Morton because she - and I quote - deserved so much more than an angry Scot?" Naturally Harry had to strike back and had picked a particularly sore spot.  
  
"Shut up, Harry." Merlin shifted, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. "We're going to have to make it up to them then, aren't we?"  
  
Harry's curly head rested on top of Merlin's bald one tiredly, taking another drink of what smelled like paint thinner. "Yes."  
  
"Starting with rehab." It's not a question.  
  
"Starting with rehab."  
  
Merlin looked up at him sternly. "And you're not going to feed him any more drugs to keep him numb?"  
  
"No, though..." He wants to avoid the question, wanted to avoid the whole conversation to be honest, hence the alcohol... but now that they've talked he can't help but voice he's fears. "He's done some awful things, Merlin. What if he can't cope?"  
  
"We've all done awful things." That was very true. Merlin had often had nightmares over the things he'd ordered and even done. It's why he was no longer a field agent - he couldn't pull the trigger anymore. At least, not until V-Day. And that day, that one had ruined more than Eggsy. But this wasn't about him.  
  
"But we were never inherently good like he was." Harry is completely serious.  
  
With annoyance Merlin sits up, rolling his eyes. "Oh jesus christ here we go-"  
  
"What?" Harry snaps at him. "He was, Merlin. He was genuinely lovely and good. And because I'm such a fuck up I just watched him break. Let him break. I knew staying away for so long just to show up would fuck with his head but once I knew he was in Germany I couldn't stop myself. I had to know. Had to see him for myself." Both are ignoring the way Harry is all but choking on tears. "What if he leaves me?"  
  
That's the dam that breaks him. In seconds Harry is a blubbering mess and Merlin reluctantly pulls him close and pats his back. "I am not drunk enough for this conversation."  
  
Harry manages to respond in between sobs. "Maybe I wanted him broken, because it was the only way I could justify keeping him after everything."


	9. Chapter 9

Eggsy wakes up, hospitalized and nonchalant. "Look at you Harry, you playing the part of the devoted wife?" His voice is rough, but he manages to sound teasing. Harry wants to say something dry but clever, a show of his impressive wit. But all he can do is stare at Eggsy, eyes bloodshot, head ringing from his rather beastly hangover. Stare like he was facing a firing squad.  
  
His boy looks so gorgeous, clean and golden. You'd never know he was soaked to the skin in blood. Harry watches as he adjusts himself so he can sit up, worry at the edges of his vision. "Hello? Earth to Harry?"  
  
Harry wants to reassure him, he can see that Eggsy is getting concerned but he just wants to preserve this moment a little longer. Just a few minutes more. "You gave us quite the scare, Eggsy."  
  
"Shit." Eggsy scrubs at his face before he asks the obvious. "It bad?"  
  
"It isn't good."  
  
"My brain mush then?" Harry is trying to keep up their banter because he knows where he stands, then. But Eggsy has been in a coma for two weeks and his little chat with Merlin was still ringing bells in his mind, demanding to be acknowledged. So instead of making light of Eggsy's near-death experience Harry leans over and kisses his hand with something akin to reverence.  
  
Suddenly neither of them can talk, can find the words to muddle their way out of what has become too serious of a moment for them. Minutes pass. Finally Eggsy swallows, stares at the hand holding his. He can't meet Harry's eyes and say this next bit. "I didn't mean to take so much. I thought I'd be okay, you know? And I'm always walkin' 'round." Hesitant now, as though he hates to admit it. "I don't remember much of what really happened. Did I... did I jump off something?"  
  
Harry swallows, kisses that much beloved hand again. "You called me and I talked you down."  
  
"Oh." More silence. "What happens now?"  
  
"Either you stop or you're going to die, next time." _And the world cannot be without you Eggsy. I can't be without you._  
  
He seems to think for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and pasting on a smile. It's a far cry from his usual mirth but after being in a coma it's all Eggsy can probably muster up. His next words are painful to hear. "So we go back to normal."  
  
That, that Harry was an immediate answer for. "No, Eggsy."  
  
Unsurprisingly Eggsy blows up, the unfamiliar territory combined with Harry's edict tugging at his temper. He yanks his hand away. "So what, you're gonna stop me? If I want a fix I'll find one."  
  
"I know that." _I've always known that._ It's why he'd always supplied Eggsy's drugs himself, to make sure he never had to risk getting something he didn't ask for, even if Eggsy probably wouldn't have cared.  
  
 _Christ, he looks like the first time I saw him. Sullen and scared. I wish we could go back to that moment, that I could do it right._ "Then what are you trying to fucking say to me Harry? That you're done?"  
  
"I will never be done with you, ever." If Harry's voice is absolutely dripping in possessiveness, well, he doesn't care. It's a simple fact to him. But now he lowers his voice, stares at Eggsy imploringly and reaches for the boy's hand again - which he's stubbornly denied. "Which is why I'm going to ask you something that is unfair, that I have no right to ask of you." A deep breath. It's now or never. "Please stop, _please_."  
  
Eggsy's jaw quite literally drops. "You're fucking right that ain't fuckin' fair Harry."  
  
"I know, darling."  
  
"I don't even know if I can." He sounds so afraid, like he's going to fail Harry. _Oh my dear, sweet boy. How did I let it reach this point?_  
  
"You know that I'll give you whatever you need." This time he holds his hand out in offering, palm up. Eggsy grabs it unthinkingly, his hand is sweaty with nerves. "But I can't help you unless you want me to."  
  
"And if I don't want to?"  
  
"I don't know." _That's a lie and we both know it._ "I want to say that we'll part ways, because I can't watch you kill yourself anymore just because it makes it easier for me to want you, to excuse myself. But I don't think I'll be able to let you go either." _I know I won't._ "I told you from the beginning that I can be... possessive." _And you are mine, you have always been mine._ "There's a chance if you refuse to get clean and try to leave me that I will react... unfavorably."  
  
"You mean you'll tie me up and make me get clean anyway." It's lacking all tact, but honest. Eggsy has always been able to see him for what he is.  
  
Harry nods regrettably. "It seems likely, yes."  
  
"You'd hate yourself for doing it." _I'd feel like even more of a monster._  
  
"Yes, I would." _I really, really would. But it wouldn't stop me._  
  
Eggsy presses on doggedly. He never learned to drop a topic until he'd worried it down to the bone and this is no different. Harry can't even fault him for it, though he does wonder at the boy's intent. "But you'd still do it."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Seems to me that you just might love me a little then, yeah?" He's so hesitant, as if he doesn't know. _How could he not know?_  
  
It is Harry's turn to drop his jaw unbelieving. "Eggsy I love you more than anything in this world."  
  
"It's about time I got off this shite then, innit?" And there it is, that smile, the one that melted Harry's entire world.  
  
That's when he knows: they're going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this SO MUCH. Waaaay more than I expected. It's possible that I'll add little oneshots to this later but for now I'm calling it done. Thank you so much for reading <3
> 
> Also here's all (most of it, anyway) the music a listened to while writing it and it's surprisingly (mostly) super peppy? idk. http://saintsavage.tumblr.com/post/153491180633/of-monsters-and-men-soundtrack


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